


Azriel...Sexmaster?

by librarian_of_velaris



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Clubbing, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 18:50:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14960144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/librarian_of_velaris/pseuds/librarian_of_velaris
Summary: Elain gets dragged out to a night at Rita's and overhears an interesting fact about Azriel...





	Azriel...Sexmaster?

Elain just wanted to go home.

The music was much too loud for her taste, the high-pitched music hurting her sensitive, pointed, Fae ears. How it didn’t bother Feyre or the rest of the Inner Circle, she had no idea. Even worse was the _thump-thump_ of the bass, which seemed to reverberate along every inch of her body, the vibrations refusing to stop even as she made her way to the bathroom, looking for at least a second of peace.

_Great,_ she thought, opening the door to the bathroom, finding every stall, mirror, and sink in use. Fae of all sorts occupied the room, repainting their lips the darkest shades of red or berry she’d ever seen, holding the stalls closed for their friends while they _did their business—_ as Elain liked to say—or just talking with one another about the male on the dance floor that gave her _that look_ that she just couldn’t ignore.

Elain wished she could just winnow home. No matter where she turned, she was bombarded by sounds and sights that only made her feel more out of place. She didn’t belong in a club like this, what with the loud noises and lack of peace and quiet. No, she belonged in her garden, quietly tending to the new daisies she’d planted only a month ago. She didn’t even _like_ dancing, or drinking, for that matter. This was the last place she’d go on her own, but Feyre had told her she should at least come out with them once, and she’d been asking Elain at least every week, if not more. So just this once, she’d said, she’d go. But only because her sister had said that Azriel would meet them there.

Az had been gone for what must have only been days, but seemed like weeks to Elain, who missed his constant, reassuring presence in the garden with her. He had proved to be an invaluable resource, giving her endless information on what types of plants would thrive in her garden at the top of the House of Wind and telling her stories as she gardened. Whenever he wasn’t on a mission for Rhys, he’d spend his days with her, helping her dig around the dirt for her plants.

And she enjoyed every moment they spent together, from the information on flowers to letting his shadows help her plant, or even that one time he—ever so delicately—wiped the dirt from her forehead that she’d neglected to notice after a particularly busy day on the rooftop.

They’d grown close over the past year, and no one in the Inner Circle could miss the distinct way Azriel’s face would light up the minute he saw Elain at dinner, or the relief in Elain’s expression when she’d wait on the balcony for him to come home, sweeping him into a massive hug as soon as he landed. And no one could deny the stolen glances and smiles they’d give each other at the dinner table, or the way they looked at each other, the smiles, the laughter, the _joy_ on their faces. But it remained unspoken, a secret neither would acknowledge quite yet.

And Elain had come out to Rita’s—come out of her comfort zone—for Azriel, but he was nowhere to be found. _Must be running late,_ she thought as the line for the bathroom moved forward and she walked into an open stall, _he’ll be here._

Elain looked at the toilet and grimaced. She had thought that Rita’s would at least take the time to clean their bathrooms, yet right in front of her was a mess. Toilet paper was strewn about the sticky floor, and the toilet… _well,_ _that’s out of the question,_ she thought, knowing that no amount of cleaning would make it remotely useable.

Even her shoes had become sticky. In the short time she had been in the stall, he shoes had picked up pieces and pieces of toilet paper, which she tried to quietly stomp away, but every time she rid herself of a strip, another was ready to take its place, and Elain would _not_ leave that stall until her shoes were undoubtedly clean. What if she ran into Az in the middle of stomping the excess toilet paper off? No, she couldn’t let that happen. Not that he would judge—he would never—but…she just couldn’t bring herself to take that risk. So she resigned herself to stomping it off in the stall.

Unfortunately, though, for as quiet as she was trying to be, the females in the bathroom with her did not offer that courtesy as they spoke of a mysterious man, seemingly surrounded by…shadows?

“Shadows. It was like his body was covered in this dark smoke, hiding him from the world,” said a high-pitched voice.

Elain’s ears perked up at the word. Only one male she knew had shadows that followed him around. Azriel. _So he_ is _here,_ she thought.

“Is he the dark, mysterious man you were talking about the other day?” Said another, seemingly her friend.

_The other day?_ Elain held her breath, waiting for the fae to respond.

“Cauldron, yes. He wouldn’t talk to me then, though. He was perfectly content to drink and brood by himself. I’m hoping tonight he’ll let up a little…”

Elain let out a sigh of relief. It wasn’t as though they had defined anything, but…Azriel looked at her like no other male had before. Not even Graysen. Maybe she was naïve, thinking she was special, that Az reserved those looks just for her, but…she had hoped. And maybe, just maybe, she was right.

“Wait. You said _shadows,_ right?” Said her friend in a sudden moment of clarity, and Elain couldn’t help but keep listening in on their conversation.

“Yeah, why?”

“Wings too?”

They were definitely talking about Azriel.

“Yeah. You know him?”

“Know him, he’s a fucking legend. No one really knows who he is, but he’s been coming here for _years._ Maybe even centuries. They say he’s never left Rita’s without a beautiful female on his arm,” said the female, and Elain’s stomach turned in over itself, twisting into knots. “They call him the Sexmaster.”

Sex…Master? The knots in her stomach twisted and Elain nearly wanted to keel over. She was going to be sick.

“Well, with a nickname like that…” the female trailed off, likely imagining the possibilities.

Tears welled up in her eyes, as she realized how childish she was for even entertaining the idea that Azriel might have any sort of feelings for her. And really, why would he? She wasn’t as beautiful as these made-up fae, she didn’t like to dance, or club, or go out like Az did. Here she was, thinking he only went out because they dragged him, just like they did her…boy, was she naïve.

Elain shook, trying to control herself. _Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry. Don’t let them see you cry,_ she repeated in her head, but she couldn’t help it as a small sob escaped from her lips.

“Did you hear that?” The high-pitched voice said. _Crap._

Her cover was blown. Opening the stall, she tried to hurry out, but the female stopped her.

“Are you okay? Did someone hurt you?”

“I, uh, no…sorry, I’ve got to run, meeting a friend…” Elain trailed off, politely thanking the fae and rushing out of the bathroom and towards the front doors as quick as she could. She was going home. She didn’t belong here. She didn’t belong at Rita’s, didn’t belong with Azriel…

Elain bumped into something. _Someone._

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I…”

“Elain?” Said the male she’d accidentally hit. That voice…those wings…she knew him.

“Cassian?”

“Elain, are you crying?”

“I…uh, it’s no big deal, really. I just need to go home.”

Cassian nodded in understanding. “I can get Azriel and—”

“No, no. Not Azriel. I don’t want to see him,” she said, tears starting to flow down her cheeks once more, “I can get home myself.”

“You shouldn’t be going home alone. Plus, I’m sure he’d be just as excited to get out of here as you. He only comes because we ask him, remember? He’s been looking for you since he’s arrived.”

She perked up a bit at the thought, but it was short-lived. _Why would he be looking for me? He’s probably dancing with some girl right now,_ she reminded herself, _he’s the_ Sexmaster _, remember? Don’t be naïve._

“Sexmaster?” Cassian said, and Elain only just realized she’d said the words aloud. “Where’d you hear that, Elain?”

“Um, uh, some females in the bathroom were talking about it…” she trailed off, uneager to remember the conversation she’d overheard.

Cassian dragged a hand through his dark hair, a smirk on his lips. “So it _did_ get around.”

Elain gave him a confused stare. “Wh—what do you mean?”

“This must’ve been, what, a hundred years ago? Maybe more? We dragged Az out to Rita’s one night, and he refused to do anything but drink. And brood. This had been going on for forever. So being the _wonderful_ brothers we are, Rhys and I decided to do the one thing we thought would help. We started telling people about how great Az was in bed. How anyone who slept couldn’t help but think he was an absolute master in the bedroom. He was better than anyone had ever had before. Hence, Sexmaster. It was a stupid ploy to get him laid. He’d been so lonely, and we were so young, and,” he sighed, “it was dumb, now that I think about it. And I’m surprised the rumor’s still circulating, even after all these years. We did a good job, huh?” He continued, smiling a bit at the accomplishment.

Elain was…she didn’t quite know how to feel. There was too much information coming at her all at once. She let Cassian continue, her mind working to fit the pieces together.

“But it’s not true, Elain, I promise,” said the Illyrian, dragging a hand through his hair, “he never took anyone home from Rita’s. Not in the hundreds of years I’ve known him. And you know Az, he wouldn’t do something like that. He’s too much of a romantic. Plus, he only has eyes for you.”

_Me? But…_ The tears ceased, Elain wiping away the last one with the end of her sleeve. A small seed of hope planted in her chest; maybe she hadn’t been so childish after all. Maybe there had been something between the two, something neither were ready to admit to one another.

“Can…can you go get Azriel? I think I need to talk to him.”

Cassian nodded, sauntering away to go find his brother.

Elain waited only a few short moments—her stomach twisting and turning in anticipation—before she saw Azriel and his shadows walking up to her.

“Elain,” he said, dragging a hand through his short, dark hair, “hi.”

“Hi,” she repeated, wringing her hands together. “Can we talk?”

“Of course. Can I walk you home?” Azriel extended his arm, gently grabbing her hand to lead her out of Rita’s.

Elain had expected him to drop her hand as soon as they stepped out the doors to the brisk, autumn chill, but he didn’t. Instead, they walked like this for a few minutes, hand in hand, as Elain gathered the courage to say something, anything to him. But he broke the silence first.

“I was looking for you all night.”

“Oh…I—I didn’t know,” she said, a bit startled at the admission, “I must’ve been in the bathroom when you got here.”

Elain looked up at the Shadowsinger, his hazel eyes staring back at her as though they could see to her very soul. _Cauldron, those eyes…._ she silently chided herself for the thought, not allowing herself to finish.

Still holding her hand, Azriel gave her a smile, turned to her, and started to speak. “I…I have to admit something,” he said shyly, and Elain had never seen him so flustered, “I only came tonight, well, because Feyre had told me you’d be there.”

“Why?” The word felt ridiculous coming out of her mouth. 

“I—I like spending time with you, I thought, um, I thought if we were both at Rita’s, if I tagged along, maybe—maybe we could dance together, or something.”

“Dance…with me?”

“With you, yes,” he said, giving her an awkward smile.

“But what about—what about other…other girls—I mean, females?”

“I’ve never wanted to dance with any female but you, Elain. Not for a long time.”

“Really?” Her cheeks started to turn red.

He took a few steps forward, closing the space between them. “Yes, really.”

Elain stared up at him, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. They were slow close she could feel the rise and fall of his chest, his steady breaths. The Illyrian towered over her on a good day, but this close, he was a mountain. Slowly, she raised herself onto her tiptoes.

And then she kissed the Shadowinger.

Azriel’s eyes went wide as she pecked him on the mouth, softly, delicately, before her toes couldn’t hold her any longer, and she fell back to the ground, once again looking up to those hazel eyes.

“I—I’m sorr—”

“There’s no need to be sorry, Elain,” he said, pulling her into a warm embrace and kissing the top of her head, “you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that. How long I’ve wanted you to do that.”

“You…you did?”

“I’ve wanted to do that ever since that first day we spent in the garden together,” he said, pulling her face up to his and brushing his lips to hers.

She smiled, truly smiled at the thought. _I’d wanted the same thing,_ she quickly realized, remembering those stolen glances, those times in the garden.

But there was still one thing she needed to be sure of.

“I have a question,” she said, stepping back a bit.

“Fire away.”

“I heard something. About you. About…Rita’s.”

“Rita’s?”

“I overheard that you were rumored to be a…somewhat of a sex—sexmaster,” she said, stumbling over the last word.

Azriel sighed, his dark hair falling into his eyes, “mother above, Elain, I’m so sorry…Cassian spread a rumo—”

“Cassian told me.”

“So you know it’s just a joke, a rumor, a lie? None of it is true, Elain. I don’t even _enjoy_ going to Rita’s. I’d much prefer _not_ go to out, but they tend to drag me along.”

“Me too,” she said, shrugging her shoulders, “the only way they got me to come with tonight was to say you were going to be there.”

Azriel laughed, a rich, deep sound blossoming from his throat as he realized their friends used the same tactics to bring them to the club tonight. Of course they’d go if the other would be there.

“Next time they try this, let’s just go out to dinner—the two of us—instead,” Azriel said, taking her hand and leading her back to the townhouse.

“It’s a date,” replied Elain.


End file.
